


The Sound of Mutants

by ourgirlfriday, Rohnoc



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Robots, x-men big bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:52:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1791127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourgirlfriday/pseuds/ourgirlfriday, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rohnoc/pseuds/Rohnoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles knew the danger that they faced in the war zones and deserted quadrants better than most, despite his never seeing the danger zones for himself; he’d been the one to tell her stories about the alliance and the rebels, after all, and later he’d been the one who had taught her about the war.  Now he's been brought to Genosha to teach the younger mutants on base at the behest of General Magneto. </p><p>Or, X-Men very loosely influenced by The Sound of Music, in Spaaaaace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Mutants

**Author's Note:**

> For [X-Men Big Bang Round 3](http://xmenbigbang.livejournal.com/)! A very big thanks to Kageillusionz for betaing. Any mistakes are my own, and hopefully are easy to overlook. Thanks to Rohnoc for being a lovely partner!
> 
> I own nothing, not x-men, not The Sound of Music, not the pen I wrote this with.

Mystique piloted the tiny ship through the Neutral Zone with practiced ease, weaving between large civilian stations and resettlement pods zooming off into far corners of space to start a new life. She had to cover no small amount of empty space before they’d enter her home territory of Genosha, and could let the Blackbird rest. She eagerly welcomed this respite offered by the Neutral Zones from the dangerous open stretches unregulated by any human or mutant government. For the first time in nearly a week, Commander Darkholme felt like it might finally be safe enough to relax, just a bit. She turned to her companion and flashed a smile, gleaming and bright against her blue skin.  


“Looks like things might calm down for a bit,” she said as she studied Charles Xavier.  


He answered with a small nod, though his forehead creased with worry. He sat terribly still, hands grasping each other tightly, and Mystique doubted that he breathed. Forgetting to breathe had always been a bad habit of her Charles.  


“It’s safe here,” she tried again. “I can’t say we won’t get into trouble again, but for now, we’re safe.”  


“Of course,” Charles answered at once, turning to her for the first time in days. He smiled warmly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He’d never let his nerves overcome him to the point of jiggling a leg or otherwise fidgeting, but his shoulders carried the same rigidity that Mystique recognized from the bad days in her youth, when the halls of Westchester rang with shouts and arguments, and Charles would carry Mystique to her room and read her his favorite books. She didn’t associate Charles’ posture with tension until years later, when she noticed General Magneto carrying himself into battle in the same way.  


Mystique waved off irritation at Charles’ skittishness. One faced so many dangers traveling outside the Neutral Zones, and Charles hadn’t been out of Westchester in ages. Since before Brian Xavier had died, she knew, which was well before Mystique had finally left Westchester’s claustrophobic halls, and that’d been over a decade ago. Androids couldn’t get travel passes without the written consent of their owners, after all. Which was why, aside from the excitement of it, Mystique had decided to smuggle Charles out of Westchester, rather than risk delays and leave behind a trackable paper trail leading to Genosha. It wouldn’t do to bring an army to them after finally finding a teacher for the children.  


Charles knew the danger that they faced in the war zones and deserted quadrants better than most, despite his never seeing the danger zones for himself; he’d been the one to tell her stories about the alliance and the rebels, after all, and later he’d been the one who had taught her about the war. All she remembered now was that it had been ongoing for centuries; well before the humans and mutants had abandoned Earth, even, and that had been four hundred years ago at least.  


They’d be coming to the end of the Neutral Zone within the day. After that it’d be nearly a week before they were back in Genosha. Any number of threats lurked between Charles and herself and safe harbor – human fighters for Stryker or Trask, Shaw’s faction, and the run of the mill marauders and pirates that seemed to be everywhere these days. They’d already had to outmaneuver a squadron of Stryker’s men patrolling on behalf of the fringe humanists. She’d have preferred to take them out; after all, a dead enemy is one who you know won’t cause trouble again. But it was too risky, and Charles never would have approved. Charles’ disapproval of killing might cause him problems, she mused, especially where they were headed. She pushed it aside and refocused on piloting the ship – no sense worrying about it now, after all.  


Truth be told, and despite Charles’ naive beliefs, she knew their safety wasn’t guaranteed even in the Neutral Zones. They’d be liable to be attacked anywhere the humans were; even the most egalitarian of Neutral Zones were susceptible to the human’s anti-mutant propaganda. And while she knew she and the Blackbird could outgun or outrun anyone who dared start something, it wouldn’t be taken to too kindly and it’d guarantee that they’d be noticed and remembered—neither of which were acceptable. In a pinch she could morph to her blonde form that gents seemed so taken with, but the Blackbird was pretty obviously of Genoshan design, and her first priority was Charles’ safety. There was no telling what Stryker or Trask’s men would do to them if they ever got ahold of him.  


Charles shuddered next to her, as if he’d heard her thoughts. He probably had, at that. She made sure to bury her discomfort with his gift deep down. It wouldn’t pay to have a fight now, and she knew how hard it was for Charles to keep his mind to himself when in such long, isolated contact with someone else.  


“We’ll be home before you know it,” she said bracingly. Charles didn’t respond, but the floor panels began to vibrate as he started quietly jiggling his leg.  


*****  


Charles’ breath hitched as they approached Genosha, any thoughts of keeping up appearances fallen to the wayside. It looked...beautiful. He’d heard talk of the mighty Magneto’s mutant base, one of the strongholds left after ages of war; Stryker’s bombardment, Trask’s anti-mutant crusades, and Shaw’s various attacks on mutants he thought worked against him.  


The buildings didn’t stand out like in some of the other mutant and human factions he’d seen in news reports, or back on Westchester. Everything on Genosha was designed to fade into the meteor’s terrain. But it radiated survival, and Charles couldn’t help but smile, full and happy. After all, what was mutation but adapting to survive? In a way, Genosha exemplified mutation at its finest.  


“Welcome home,” Mystique said happily. “Remember to breathe; it’s weird when you forget.”  


“Sorry,” Charles answered, feeling sheepish. Of all the rookie mistakes to make; even the most basic android knew to breathe around biologics. He’d never quite gotten the hang of it, though. But, he consoled himself, now is a fine time to practice. He counted his breaths as Mystique weaved the Blackbird through rocky outcrops and into a nondescript tunnel.  


“Here we are,” she said. The tunnel slowly opened up around them, showing a bright room covered in metals. Men and women bustled around them, thoughts teeming and setting him at ease for the first time in days.  


*****  


Erik ran his eyes over the report in front of him for the fourth time, though he began to believe trying to focus on anything at the moment was a lost cause. He’d been awake for G-d knows how long now. At least thirty hours, he supposed, although the days had bled together with running the base and trying to meet with the children to at least keep them busy and out of trouble. Azazel had begun giving him almost worried looks and had taken to accosting him with meals. Summers and McCoy had tried to convince him to go to bed when he last spoke with them hours ago, but even though he knew the children were right, he had too much to do to consider sleeping in the near future.  


Things would be better once Mystique returned, he reasoned. Ororo and Kitty were out scouting the area, and Betsy was patrolling the Neutral Zone for word of Stryker. Azazel and Logan did what they could, but with commander and three of his four most trusted lieutenants off base, he’d had to shoulder most of the responsibility.  


At least now the weight of the children’s education would be off his shoulders, especially if the man of whom she spoke so highly was half as good as she promised. She’d sworn up and down that he would be a fantastic teacher to the underage residents of Genosha, many of whom lacked even the most rudimentary training over their various powers, let alone had any knowledge that would have been taught in schools. This Charles, Mystique had promised, would be exactly what the children needed. G-d knew they needed someone.  


Even then, he’d been wary at allowing someone new into the base when Stryker, Trask, and Shaw were palpable threats - new residents always posed the threat of being spies for their enemies. But she’d insisted. She’d never spoken much of her past, before Genosha, but had confessed that Charles had taught her everything she’d known before meeting up with Erik and the Genoshan special forces, and he’d had to agree to let Charles at least have a trial run.  


A sharp knock at the door broke into Magneto’s thoughts as Azazel teleported in.  


“Report,” Erik ordered.  


“The satellite has picked up an incoming. It’s the Blackbird, LeBeau says. You said you wanted to know when Mystique was approaching.”  


Erik nodded at his sergeant, and turned back to straighten his desk as Azazel teleported back to the bay. He wasn’t sure why the mutant insisted on knocking before entering, but it was a courtesy Erik appreciated despite its inefficiency. When he stood, his back loudly protested of the long hours at the desk with unpleasant popping sounds. Magneto shrugged off his pain and walked down the cool metal hallway towards the bay. It was only proper, after all, to greet his right hand woman, and her new recruit.  


The entry bay bustled hectically as he made his way towards the Blackbird’s docking station. The crewman of the Genosha barely noticed him as they ran to and fro, preparing for the Blackbird’s return. LeBeau and Logan were in deep conversation and didn’t notice his entrance, and the single junior crewman who did see him simply widened his eyes and scurried away out of Erik’s sight. It was almost pleasant.  


The Blackbird glided into sight, and as always, Erik’s breath hitched at its beauty. The Omega fighter crafts were the backbone of Genosha’s defenses, but the Blackbird. The Blackbird was her crowning jewel. After a long beat the doors raised, and Mystique strode out. A smallish man stumbled after her.  


“Commander Darkholme,” he drawled as he caught Mystique’s eyes. “At ease. You’re early. What is your report?”  


“Human activity near the border, Sir. And Shaw’s up to something. So situation normal,”  


“Indeed, Commander.” Magneto let his gaze fall on the quiet, unassuming man to Mystique’s left. His rumpled sweater looked incongruous among all of the battle wear worn by those in the docking bay. He looked at Erik with electric shrewd eyes, and Erik found himself hoping he’d pass the muster. His pale skin glowed in the harsh lights, and although Erik had at least six inches on him in height, the man’s shoulders spoke of strength in their breadth. Erik strongly doubted he was anywhere as harmless as he seemed.  


“This is Doctor Charles Xavier,” Darkholme announced, pushing the man forward. Xavier reached out a hand, an odd, old fashioned custom. Magneto complied, and was surprised by the strength in the cool grip.  


“Hello, Mr. Xavier. Mystique has told me all about you.” Xavier shot a suspicious look at the commander, before turning his attention back to Magneto.  


“Please, call me Charles. I hope she’s not given you unfounded cause for alarm already.”  


“Oh please, Charles,” Darkholme huffed. “Like you’ve ever had so much as a overdue library books.” She slung an arm companionably around Charles’s broad shoulders. “He’s a good guy, Charles is. And a great teacher. We’re lucky to have him.”  


Erik tried not to notice how Charles flushed at that praise, or how fetching the flush looked on him. He instead cleared his throat and gestured to one of the many personnel rushing around.  


“Set Mr. Xavier up with quarters,” he ordered. “You’ll have the rest of today to get settled. But I expect you to begin with the children tomorrow, Charles. I’ve set up the end bunker as a training and class area. They’re to report to you tomorrow morning. I do hope you live up to expectations.” Magneto inclined his head to Mystique before turning and returning to his offices. With luck, Darwin’s report on recent intel gathered on Stryker’s forces would be ready.  


*****  


“You didn’t tell him, did you,” Charles half asked Mystique as Magneto walked away. The young man who Magneto had charged with finding Charles’ rooms – Remy LeBeau – had rushed off  


“No,” she replied softly. “No one here knows. They don’t—“  


“Why?”  


“Same as always. They don’t understand yet, Charles. It’s not a good time, with everyone worrying about Trask and Shaw and Stryker, and the war. Emma Frost has set a bad precedent, and everyone’s afraid.” Mystique said, pulling Charles into a hug. “It’ll be better, soon.”  


“I understand,” Charles answered as he wiped the moisture from his palms and calmed the unpleasant fluttering in his chest and belly. He tried to push down his disappointment as he pressed a kiss to Mystique’s forehead. “I hope I don’t cause you any difficulty.”  


“You always cause me difficulty,” she replied. “But not because of that. Because you’re a jerk.”  


“Good to know,” Charles replied as LeBeau strode towards them. “Get to work, I’ll be fine.”  


“Follow me, mon ami,” LeBeau said, gesturing Charles towards a far hallway. Charles grabbed his luggage and followed, ready to settle in to what might be a new home.  


****  


The next morning dawned earlier than Charles anticipated. Naturally, sleeping doesn’t work the same for him as it did for biological beings, of course, but he found it necessary to recharge. Especially after the tension of the last few weeks, when he’d been unable to do so on the Blackbird due to constraints on space and the worry over possible dangers and attacks.  


He finally understood how Moira had felt whenever she described having a hangover, back when MacTaggart had first visited Westchester. He should send her a message, he thought, as he made his way through the twisting corridors to the makeshift classroom. He couldn’t disclose the location of Genosha, of course, but he’d be able to set up some communication relay to let her know he was safe, and to make sure he was up to speed on her movements against Stryker and Trask. Having an advanced computer for a brain does have some advantages, after all.  


“Good morning,” Charles announced brightly to the gathering of children and young adults already gathered in the bunker. “My name is Charles Xavier, and I will be your tutor.”  


The group answered halfheartedly, waves of fatigue and ennui pouring off them.  


“Why don’t you introduce yourselves,” Charles prodded, pointing at a pile of gangly limbs and red hair in the back of the classroom.  


“Mphhhrhhg?” the pile answered.  


Right, Charles thought. Time for Plan B.  


_If it’s not too much trouble, eyes up front and heads off desks, please,_ Charles broadcast to the group. Sometimes he worried that he’d somehow give himself away with telepathy, that his mind was too different from biological minds. He’d not been found out yet, however, and this was no exception. Charles made sure to make clear that despite the wording, it wasn’t a request. Slowly, the children’s heads unfurled from where they were pillowed on arms and backpacks.  


“Thank you. Now, I understand we’re here for education and training. Let’s get an idea of where everyone is, and take it from there. Sean, is it? If you’ll start, please? Then we’ll work our way around the class.”  


Sean sighed dramatically, the way that only teenagers seemed to be able to do, and stood up.  


“I’m Sean. I do stuff. Go learning.”  


Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a long morning.  


The children, as Charles couldn’t help but think of them, were all at vastly different stages in their education and in harnessing their abilities. Hank McCoy seemed to be the most advanced; his knowledge was remarkable, and Charles was impressed with his ease at using his powers. Charles made to ask him after class about assisting with training and teaching the other students. Angel had a solid grasp on her gifts, and an impressive education. Sean needed help with science and with using his gifts, and Alex Summers was skittish to even discuss his powers in class. Charles made a note to speak with McCoy about crafting a flight suit for Sean, and an aiming plate for Alex Summers. Marie was the most difficult to read. Charles could see that she was terrified of her gifts, even without using his own. Jubilee and Bobby were proficient with their gifts, but could use refresher courses in maths. Jean and Scott needed focused attention with training, and, as the youngest, had the least solid education.  


Understandable, really. Who would care about why the war started when one has to worry about surviving it? However, that didn’t explain why all of the children knew so little about mutants and humans, and how they were related genetically and culturally. Charles had nearly choked on shock and scientific despair when Bobby said, matter-of-factly, that humans and mutants were separate species. He made a special note to have a lesson about genetics and the human-mutant divide. All of the children showed a distinct lack of information about it, he reflected. Better dust off his old lessons about the war from when he taught Mystique all those years ago.  


In the meantime, he stood at the front of the makeshift classroom, watching as the children worked on math problems he’d prepared during a short break after their introductions. It hardly made sense to focus on such matters now, not while the war raged, but he knew there would be a time after war when the hard lessons Genosha learned during the unrest would no longer apply, and math certainly couldn’t hurt in that new world, right?  


“I don’t understand why we need to learn about algebra,” Angel huffed as she set down her paper and pencil. “The robots will do this for us, right?” The others murmured in agreement, save Hank, who rather looked like someone insulted his mother.  
“Well, I can see why you feel that,” Charles admitted, pushing down irritation. The meat of the argument wasn’t too far from his original thoughts, after all, even if the thoughtless slight against synthetics hurt. “But while a big part of my job here is to prepare you to defend yourselves in this turbulent time, the world won’t always be in such chaos. I need to prepare you for life after war as well. There will come a time when you have the liberty of thinking about things other than war, and believe it or not, math, and history, and science, and arts, well. They will help. They can help you make sense of the universe, and understand your fellow man, and who knows,” he paused for effect, “you might not always have synthetics to take care of that.”  


Alex snorted. “Sorry, prof. But the war’s been going on for centuries. It’s not going to stop anytime soon.”  


“Not if everyone’s committed to keeping it going,” Charles replied, passionate. “Not if all anyone wants to do is keep fighting. We’re closer to an end than we’ve ever been. Shaw, Stryker, and Trask are the last footholds keeping the war going. If we all stand together, we can beat them.”  


“But the humans won’t let us live,” Alex snapped.  


“I will not deny there are humans who do terrible things, but you can’t say all humans want to kill all mutants,” Charles answered. “I’ve known many, many humans. They’ve all been as sick of the war as any mutant could ever be, and as horrified over what some people have done to mutants in their name as we could ever be.”  


“You can’t expect us to depend on the good intentions of everyone we meet,” Jubilee muttered to her desk.  


“Would that be so wrong? I would never ask you to not defend yourselves, but the fighting has to end somewhere.” Charles looked at the small sea of faces and sighed. “Just, think about what we’ve said here, won’t you? That’s enough for today.”  


He hadn’t finished the words before the students were through the door.  


*****  


_Separate species? That’s nothing. I had someone tell me that Mutants were demons, bred to punish humanity. I think people come up with this just to offend scientists,_ Moira laughed through the patchy connection.  


_I know. Whoever came up with that should be forced to write ‘I will not insult science’ a hundred times on the blackboard,_ Charles answered.  


_At least_ , Moira replied. _Sorry, Charles, I have to go. There’s a meeting with a new guy, about a new plan. I’ll let you know how it turns out, but I think we’re finally ready to do something about Trask._  


_Good luck, dear_ , Charles sent before severing their connection. Tapping into the mainframe had been a cakewalk, and the Genoshan system had more than enough power to contact Moira using his CEREBRO capabilities.  


He turned back to his paperwork, shuffling between training and lesson schedules for the children, and made a note to enquire about using the training rooms for the next day. He’d seen one of the rooms, and it would be perfect for his purpose - enough room to allow the students space, and the height clearance for Angel, and for Sean if he and Hank could come up with a flightsuit. Excitement pooled in Charles’ stomach as he contemplated the possibilities.  


A sharp knock at the door pulled him from Charles from his reverie. He turned around, and was surprised to see Magneto standing in the doorway, awkwardly, smiling softly.  


“So how was the first day,” Magneto asked. Charles felt heat spread across his face and he ducked his head to hide his flush.  


“Good. It went very good, General. Well. They’re very bright, and I’m excited to get to it.”  


“All of them,” Magneto asked. “That’s good. And please, call me Erik”  


Charles shot Magneto -- Erik -- a wry look. “Yes, _all_ of them. They’re all amazing, in their own way.”  


“I can’t argue with that,” Erik smiled. “We’re all of us amazing. I didn’t have a chance, earlier, to ask about your gifts.”  


_I would have thought Mystique would have told you,_ Charles projected. Erik’s eyes widened slightly.  


“Marvelous,” he whispered. Charles felt his face heat again at the general’s heavy gaze. He wanted to step closer, but would that be untoward?  


“Magneto”, Logan, one of Erik’s lieutenants, shouted from somewhere down the hall. “Get your ass in here. Meeting’s startin’, and if I have to be here, you have to be here.”  


“It sounds like you’re needed,” Charles said with a smile.  


“Indeed. Goodbye, Charles.” Erik said, low. Charles felt odd and out of sorts as he watched the General leave, and try as he might, he couldn’t deny his disappointment that Erik had had to leave so soon..  


What the hell was that about?  


******  


The next morning, Charles couldn’t shake the notion that the base seemed more subdued than usual. He tracked down Ororo Munroe, one of Genosha’s most decorated pilots, to seek permission for use of the training rooms. After a long search, he found her in the mess hall amidst a group of Genoshans silently eating their breakfast. Usually he avoided the hall because of the rather raucous noises that carried almost to the bay, but this morning even Logan and Lebeau ate in silence. Everyone seemed smaller somehow, and quieter. Even the children didn’t even argue with Charles’s “Humans can be our friends” lecture, and Alex at least usually seemed ready to argue with anything.  


“Alright,” he said, pulling McCoy to the side of the room. “What’s going on.”  


“What do you mean,” Hank replied with genuine confusion.  


“Why is everyone acting like tea was declared a martial enemy?”  


“Oh,” Hank replied. “This always happens when Magneto leaves.”  


Charles held back his surprise.  


“I hadn’t expected Erik to leave Genosha,” he admitted. “I thought he stayed on base.”  


“No,” Hank replied, looking taken aback in turn. “I don’t know what he’s doing, but he goes out himself fairly often.”  


“Oh. Well, then. We can only make the most of it,” Charles said bracingly. It shouldn’t bother him, Erik being gone. Though he supposed he could empathize with the rest of base and their rather subdued morale.  


“All right, everyone!” Charles called as he turned his attention to the class as a whole. Most of the pupils had their heads down or were rather unsubtly chatting with their neighbors. “I thought we’d try something new today.”  


“I don’t suppose its napping, huh, prof?” Angel asked.  


“No, but we’ve been cooped up in here long enough. I asked around earlier today and apparently the training rooms are open now. You can leave your things here if you’d like.” With that Charles started ushering the students from the classroom and through the halls of Genosha. He mentally nudged the few students lagging behind until everyone followed him like cranky ducklings. The soldiers looked at him strangely, but they seemed to look at everything that way. It didn’t bear thinking about.  


“So what’s the plan?” Bobby asked.  


“Have fun, Bobby. Your gifts are your own, it’s time to have fun with them!” Bobby shot a quick look back at Marie, who stopped walking and blanched.  


“I don’t know about this,” she said nervously. She radiated discomfort. Charles fell back to speak with her.  


“You...I want you to know that you never have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”  


“I’m not touching anyone,” Marie said. “I won’t, I won’t do it.”  


“You don’t have to. You can help the others with their activities, if you want. Or you can read, or we could talk. I...it seems like Genosha isn’t the best place to be relax. I thought it might be nice to let our hair down for a change.”  


Marie nodded and walked ahead. Hank had ushered the others into the training rooms ahead of them. He nodded in thanks and moved to the head of the group.  


“All right, your assignment for the next three hours is to use your powers to the best of your comfort level, and have fun. No fighting without supervision. If you’re having any problems or have any questions, you’ll find me right here.”  


The students didn’t wait for him to finish speaking before scampering off to the far corners of the gigantic room.  


“I’ll kick your ass at this,” he heard one Summers brother shout at the other. Angel had already taken to the air, swooping down to ruffle Jubilee’s hair. He smiled at the scene before him until a small cough caught his attention.  


“I’m not doing it.” Marie said again from behind him. “I’m serious.”  


“I’m not interested in making you do anything. This is supposed to be a nice break.” Marie nodded after a moment, and sat down by the wall.  


“You don’t have to answer what I’m going to ask you, so you know. But has anyone here tried to make you use your powers when you didn’t want to?” Charles’ voice kept neutral. There were times that he appreciated that his physiology allowed him to control his voice to a much greater extent than biologics could.  


Marie didn’t answer with words, but nodded sharply.  


“I’m sorry that happened. It never should have. If anyone tries that again, please tell me or Hank, or someone. We’re here to help you. All of you, not just your gifts, although those are a part of you.”  


She just shrugged and pulled out a book. Charles took that as his cue to leave, and made rounds around the students.  


Alex and Scott seemed to have some competition, and Sean and Angel were racing around above him. Bobby and Jubilee were doing...something that was very bright and cold. Hank was explaining something to a few of the youngest children.  


Charles couldn’t help but smile. He was excited, in a way, for Erik to return. Certainly he’d be excited for the children’s progress.  


****  


The next morning, to everyone’s chagrin, Charles brought out the blackboard he’d constructed with Hank the previous evening, in lieu of sleeping. It probably shouldn’t have been a surprise, not finding a blackboard on a military base and survivor’s camp, but he’d decided to correct that deficiency immediately.  


“Now, I mentioned before that we needed to have a lesson or two on mutants and humans, and I can’t in good conscience put it off any longer.”  


“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Hank called out. The others murmured their agreement. Charles turned around and was surprised to see worry on many faces. He wished that the antagonism he saw there surprised him too, but he’d made this lecture enough times to know that people weren’t always open to discussion on either side of the divide.  


“We covered some of this briefly a few lessons ago, as you might recall”, Charles started. “But we didn’t touch on many of the most important points.”  


Charles gathered thoughts as he passed out print outs. “One thing that has gained far too much traction, and needs to die a painful fiery death, is the idea that ‘humans’ and ‘mutants’ are separate species, which is false.” He turned to look at the pupils, and made a note of those who looked mutinous. There were fewer angry faces than he expected, which was a heartening thought.  


“I personally dislike the terms ‘human’ and ‘mutant’, as it reinforces this false thought.”  


“But it’s like when the homo sapiens destroyed the Neanderthals,” Sean called. “Magneto says it’s the same thing.”  


“With all due respect, Magneto apparently understands as much about genetics as he does about fashion. The situations are not comparable. First of all, homo sapiens and Neanderthals _were_ separate species. This is not the case. ‘Mutants’ can be born of ‘human’ parents. They frequently are. And two ‘mutant’ parents can have a nongifted child. Genes are much more complex than anyone wants them to be. The gap between ‘human’ and ‘synthetic’ is much, much more vast, but no one mentions that.”  


“But that doesn’t change the fact that Stryker think’s we’re separate species, and wants us all dead,” Sean interjected.  


“And he’s wrong, and what he’s doing is reprehensible. As I said before, I am not going to tell you that defending yourselves is wrong, or not important. I am here to train you to defend yourselves, and I aim to succeed. But we all need to understand the facts as they are, not as we might wish them to be.”  


“I think it’s time for a break,” Hank interrupted, as he looked at Charles with an odd expression.  


“Yes, fine,” Charles replied. “Let’s meet back up in the training rooms. I think we could all use a break.”  


***  


Once the other students were immersed in their activities, Hank cornered Charles in the training room.  


“You’re synthetic, aren't you?” he asked with some unexpected excitement.  


Charles debated lying before sighing and nodding his head.  


“I thought so,” Hank chirped. “You’re amazing. I never would have thought, except your projections seem more clouded than Jean’s and other biologic telepaths. And...you don’t always breathe.”  


“Please, Hank, keep it down,” Charles begged. “No one else knows.”  


“Really? Even Magneto? Hasn’t he felt your..innards?”  


“It’s not like that. I’m not...metal, you could say.” Brian Xavier had hated the idea of metal skeletons -- he’d found the concept clunky and vulgar.  


“Really?” Hank looked like it was Christmas come early.  


“You can’t open me, Hank.” Some boundaries needed to be drawn. Charles felt tired, suddenly, at how many times over the years he’d had this conversation. Even with Moira, who had shown the most compassion of any biologic he’d met. When Charles looked up, he saw that Hank looked aghast at Charles’s suggestion.  


“I’d never...You’re still you, Charles. I don’t...dissect my friends. It’s just, you're the only synthetic I’ve met, aside from Emma Frost. And isn’t it rude to ask that of a synthetic?”  


“Proprietary isn’t something I’ve come to expect from biologicals, once they find out,” Charles admitted.  


“Well, your secret’s safe with me. Honestly, if you’re going to worry about anything, it’d be about the lecture today. That won’t go over well with the council.”  


“I don’t understand why there’s such a backlash to discussing this?” Charles muttered. Hank bit his lip and looked at the floor.  


“Maybe it’s just different for us.” Hank muttered to the concrete. “We’ve grown up our whole lives knowing that Trask and Shaw and their forces want us dead. It’s hard to care why, or where these lines started. We just want to live,” he shrugged.  


“I understand that--”  


“I’m not sure you do, Charles.” Hank caught Charles’ eyes, and his voice was kind. “That’s not a..a slight on you. You’ve just never had to deal with that like we have.”  


Charles froze at that, even if he understood Hank’s point. He’d not been hunted down by a dedicated group, but still, thoughts of reprogrammed or destroyed synthetics flooded his mind and he lurched against the desk.  


“You have a point,” he whispered, “but you’re not entirely right about it. Give me some time to think this over.” Charles waved Hank off with a suggestion for his student to go check on the other children. Once he felt satisfied that everyone’s attention was elsewhere, he sagged against the wall and closed his eyes. He knew there were differences between the treatment of mutants and that of synthetics, but it was hard to express how much it hurt knowing that the crimes against him were oftentimes done out of thoughtlessness, rather than malice. Was it worse, he wondered, to be demonized as a threat, or to be written off as a mere object.  


No one mentioned the genetics lecture over the next week, although he thought some Genoshans were giving him odd looks. Classes continued, covering language and writing, science and technology. Charles didn’t know if it the silence occurred because of a gap between himself and the students too wide to bridge, or if they were thinking over what he said. Or, most likely, they had stopped thinking about it as soon as class ended. There was some similarity between students from all walks of life, and the willingness to forget lessons was one of the major examples.  


Still, Charles knew that one of the students would bring it up again. In all his years teaching, he’d never given that lecture and not had a follow up response.  


He was unprepared, however, for the quarter that the response came from.  


****  


Erik strode down the hall, mind buzzing with anger and fatigue. He’d finally returned to Genosha after a week’s scouting mission, searching for news on Shaw, and before being back for a half hour had been greeted by news of Xavier’s lessons on humans. His stomach twisted in knots and he embraced his anger over Xavier’s betrayal.  


He turned the corner to the classroom and felt satisfaction as the metal around him shook, building a cacophony of rage. He entered the room and advanced on the man before Xavier realized Erik had arrived. The two of them were due for a little talk, clearly.  


“What is the meaning of this,” Erik hissed as he grabbed Charles by a surprisingly muscular arm and pushed him against the classroom wall.  


“I’m afraid I’m not sure--” Charles started, looking confused. Erik’s anger flared again.  


“What you’ve been teaching them, that we’re the same as the humans,” Erik spat. “You’d have them think that they’re the same as those cowering, simpering _fools_ who would have them killed as soon as look at them!”  


Charles’ calm exterior shifted, and the man looked irritated, if not angry. _Good_ , Erik thought, taking perverse pleasure in making Charles’s placid façade crack.  
“And what, you think you’re so different? I’ve read the Brotherhood manifestos, and I’m fully aware of what Shaw’s faction have done.”  


“Don’t you dare mention his name in front of me--”  


“Surely you don’t expect me to pretend he doesn’t exist! Do you really think you’re so superior? Of course there are terrible humans, and terrible mutants. Should I step aside while you all blow each other up?”  


“How can you turn your back on your own people and side with _them_ ,” Erik spat.  


“What do you even mean by that? I said you were the same because you _are_ the same.”  


“How kind of you to exclude yourself from your sanctimonious drivel,” he sneered, pressing close against Charles, waiting for a reaction other than sneering or calm.  


“Of course I did! I’m not a mutant!”  


Erik blanched and stepped back. “You’re not human,” he said flatly. Charles couldn’t tell if Erik meant that as a question or a statement, but he shook his head wildly.  


“No. No, I’m not. Erik. I’m synthetic. An android, I guess you could say.” Charles shrugged helplessly. “Don’t you see, Erik, you and the humans, you are the same. To me, you are the same.” Charles stepped forward and reached for Erik’s hand. Erik jerked back.  


“Get out,” he whispered, memories of pain at Emma’s hands coming to his mind. Azazel, doubled over. Mystique screaming. Shaw, smiling at Frost like she was a prize guard dog.  


“What?” Charles - no, it - looked torn. Good, Erik thought. If it feels, let it feel what it’s done to us.  


“Leave. Now.” Something in Erik’s chest froze. It looked gutted. It’s reactions seemed amazingly real.  


“Right,” it said. “We can continue tomorrow, after we’ve had a chance to think.”  


“No,” Erik said. “Leave Genosha. Tonight. You’ll have safe passage to the Neutral Zone, I’ll guarantee you that. But go, and never come back.”  


“Erik,” the robot whispered. “You can’t mean that.”  


“Go,” he said, turning away. “I won’t tell you again.” He strode out of the room and down the hallway. He didn’t look back, not when it made a small keen, not when he heard it step away closer as if to follow. He didn’t slow until he reached the safety of his office, and then all but collapsed into a chair. He leaned back and closed his eyes, and focused on breathing, full exhales and inhales, trying to burn off his fears and nerves.  


“What did you do,” Mystique hissed when she burst through his office door twenty minutes later. “Charles is packing, Hank is crying, what did you do?”  


“You shouldn’t have brought him here.”  


“What? The hell I shouldn’t have. The younger mutants needed a teacher. Charles is the best. I’m not going to let the best person slip away because you’re being an ass.”  


“Don’t call it a person! It’s a machine, created by _them_ , filling the children’s minds with nonsense! I can’t have that insubordination on base, commander. You of all people know that.”  


Mystique stared at him in silence for a long moment, eyes narrowed dangerously. When she spoke, her words were iron and ice. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about him, _General_. You don’t know a goddamn thing about what we’ve been through. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known anyone, and he’s far more of a person than anyone else I’ve ever met. If turning someone like that away is how you want to run Genosha, I can’t stop you, but I sure as hell won’t stay.”  


“That’s not what I meant,” Magneto snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a headache. “I can’t have the children thinking that humans won’t hurt them. You’ve seen what they do. Your friend is feeding them poison.”  


He almost didn’t hear Mystique as she moved into his space. “So talk to the children. Let them decide what to think for themselves. They’re smart. They’re more competent, and more aware, than you give them credit for.”  


An explosion broke the tension, followed, incongruously, by the sound of...laughter. Alex, laughing. He was out the door in a heartbeat, running down the hall. The peals of laughter led him to the far storage room that had apparently been annexed for training. Alex and Scott were both doubled over.  


“What is the meaning of this,” Erik snapped. The children jumped to attention, but their small faces shone with unusual merriment.  


“We did it, sir,” Scott bubbled. “We got the target!” Alex nodded to the far side of the room, where a smoldering pile of what had one time been a target lay smoking and inert.  


“I see,” Erik mused. Behind him, Mystique radiated annoyance and smugness. This was clearly the android’s doing.  


“Where’s the prof?” a new voice called out. Marie ran up to the small group. Erik hadn’t had a chance to study her recently, but she had blossomed since Charles had arrived. She reached out to Alex and rested a gloved hand on his shoulder, smiling and laughing. Clothing covered her, head to toe, naturally, but she seemed lighter, somehow. Happier. Alex and Scott, too.  


“Tell me, how are lessons with your new tutor working out?” he pressed.  


“Great,” Scott shouted. “He taught us how to focus n how to blast n math n writing but that’s not too fun but we get to play--”  


“It’s going well,” Alex interrupted, clamping a hand over Scott’s mouth. He’s great. He got Sean flying, and Angel, and Armando’s helping out! And he talks to us, too.”  


“And he’s a robot!” Scott cried happily after he pulled Alex’s hand away. “Isn’t that the coolest? Jean says he doesn’t want us to know but she saw it and I dunno why we’re not supposed to know because it’s awesome!”  


“I see.” Erik said, measuredly. He turned and caught Mystique’s eye. “Carry on with your training. I’ll see if I can find your ‘prof’”. He turned on his heel and strode down the hallway to the android’s rooms. Something like worry pooled in his gut on the way.  


***  


Charles wasn’t surprised how quickly packing went -- after all, he hadn’t brought much to the base, and he hardly had time to accumulate anything new. Clothing, textbooks, his one photograph of Mystique as a child, back when he knew her as Raven. All of it stuffed into one duffel bag weighing less than twenty five pounds.  


Even if this couldn’t surprise him, though, it hurt nonetheless. It seemed strange, how one could live a life in a place, lay down tentative roots, and still not leave a mark when you left. Perhaps biologics felt differently.  


“Ready,” Logan grunted from outside Charles’ door. Howlett had agreed to take Charles to a hub on the outskirts of the Neutral Zone. He hoped from there he’d be able to catch a ride heading back towards Westchester, although he supposed he had nothing to go back to. Everyone he’d known had died or moved on long ago. He could go anywhere, now. Maybe he could visit Moira and help her and her allies fight against Trask. Maybe he could find a school, somewhere, and teach. Maybe he could find a place of his own.  


“Howlett,” a familiar voice called, effectively ending his reverie. But what Magneto hoped to accomplish here Charles couldn’t begin to guess. “Don’t you have business in the bay?”  


“My business ain’t none of yours, bub,” Howlett drawled. Charles rolled his eyes and popped his head out of the door before they could enter a pissing contest.  


“Hello, General. I’m just finishing, we’ll be out of your way in a tick,” Charles said with the frosty smile and voice Sharon taught him so long ago, ever so useful for parties and meetings. It managed to be insolently polite. Charles had hated it at the time, but now he sent thanks to Sharon’s memory. She hadn’t loved him, but she had tried to, and that was more than he could have ever asked.  


“Mr. Xavier. May I have a word? Privately?”  


“I apologize, General, but I fail to see what we could possibly have to discuss that we didn’t cover earlier. As I said, we will be leaving shortly. You will not have to worry about me intruding on your hospitality any longer.” Charles turned his attention to Logan and nodded, following the man to the ship bay.  


“Please,” Magneto rasped, grabbing Charles’s elbow. Charles wanted to wrench his arm back. He wanted to yell at the man he had almost thought of as a friend. He wanted to throw himself into Erik’s -- no, Magneto’s -- arms and weep.  


Instead, he just hung his head and whispered “what? What could you possibly have to say to me now? You made yourself very clear.” His voice sounded steady to his ears, which Charles counted as a small victory. His body didn’t shake, but he knew he’d be red in the face and the eyes, and he couldn’t ignore the raw feeling in his chest near where he didn’t have a heart, and still so many doubted whether or not he counted as being ‘real’.  


“I’m sorry,” Magneto murmured, obviously not used to giving apologies. “I..what I said. It was. I was too harsh.”  


Charles ran a hand through his hair and laughed without humor. “Yes, general, you certainly were that. Logan, we might be a minute.” He turned and headed back to what had been his room, Magneto only a step behind.  


“I spoke to the children. They’ve...the improvements they’ve made in the short time you’ve been here is...impressive. I cannot allow you to continue filling their head with the idea that they’re the same as humans, but they need you. Genosha needs you.”  


“I can’t lie to them, General.”  


Erik made an exasperated sound and looked anywhere except at Charles. “I don’t want you to lie, but can’t you see? Mutants are the future. You said so yourself.”  


“You’re twisting my words,” Charles snapped. “Can’t you see? You are human. The non-gifted? They are also humans. It’s not so great a division. Digesting milk, red hair - those are mutations, the same as manipulating gravitational fields. I won’t let the children forget that, in their fear.”  


“So you’d have them stand by and let the baselines put them in chains?”  


“No! No, how could you think that?”  


“You certainly seem eager to teach them to roll over for Stryker and his ilk.”  


“That’s ridiculous!”  


“They need to be prepared for what they’re going to face when they’re on the front lines.”  


“That’s what I’m trying to do! For god’s sake. Do you think I’m unaware of what they’ll have to do once they join the armed ranks? Do you think I’m under the impression that they’ll use their gifts for party tricks? I know what’s out there. I _know_.”  


“Then why are you so eager to tell them they’re the same as the enemy?”  


“Not all humans are the enemy! Not all humans are part of Stryker’s or Trask’s crews. Not even most. There are so many people out there, good people, and I won’t have the children go out there thinking the only way to live is by bloodshed. And aside from the innocents who would be painted as enemies, it’s not a war you can win.”  


“So you’ll have us concede--”  


“No. I’ll have you be smart. There are so many more non-gifted than there are mutants, don’t you see? I won’t teach them to bring on their own destruction.”  


Erik sighed with frustration and muttered under his breath, “Can’t you be reprogrammed to agree--”  


Charles turned on Erik with an icy glare.  


“Don’t continue that line of thought.”  


“But you’re a robot. Changing your program won’t be a problem.”  


“Goodbye, Magneto. We cannot possibly have anything to say to each other.”  


“I see. So you’re unwilling to consider for yourself what you expect to work for the children.”  


“No,” Charles spit. “That would be going into their heads and changing their minds. I’m simply providing a new point of view.”  


“You can’t be seriously upset.”  


“Goodbye.”  


“Charles, wait.”  


“No, Magneto. You have no idea, do you? So willing to cast down humans for what they’ve done to you, and so unwilling to see what you all have done to us.”  


“What are you talking about?”  


“You’re all the same, aren’t you? Biologics. You’re so concerned with yourselves. Do you have any idea how many of us your lot has tread on? Why would you, after all, we’re only synthetics. Never mind that we think, and feel.”  


“You can’t compare us,” Erik stormed, mind whirling and shut off from Charles. “You’re manmade.”  


Charles stared at Magneto until Erik almost started fidgeting under the weight of that gaze. “I forgot, you lot sprung from your father’s heads fully formed.”  


“That’s not what I meant!”  


“Then what did you mean?”  


“You’re motivated by programming and interconnecting bits of metal and electricity.”  


“And how exactly do you think your brain works? We’re really not so different.”  


“You’re not like the rest of them, Charles!”  


“But I am. Maybe my brain is a little different. Maybe my body is a little more convincing. But I am a synthetic, and I can’t pretend I am not. Especially not in a world that will never let me forget exactly what I am, and exactly what they feel my spot should be.”  


“You understand our fight, Charles. Why are you so determined to side with the humans?”  


“You don’t understand. If I were to follow that path, where would it end? You yourself just recommended going into my programming and changing me. Is that not a threat? I would pose myself against all biologics. Many of whom, I repeat, are innocent.”  


Erik blanched.  


“It’s not an unheard of argument amongst synthetics. Why should we be beholden to you when all of history seems to be a testament to the fallibility of biological life? But that won’t solve anything, and becoming like Stryker is too high a price to pay.”  


They stood in silence for a what seemed like a small eternity, staring at each other.  


“I see,” Erik whispered, breaking the silence. “I think I understand you now. I don’t know that I agree, but I understand. I..was wrong. Stay here, with the children. Please. They need you.”  


“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, now.”  


“Please, Charles. Stay.” Erik’s warm hand curved around Charles’s shoulder, slowly running up along his neck. “We need you.”  


“Can you work with a synthetic? You seemed so opposed--”  


“I can work with _you_. Please, stay. Marie will have my head if I let you leave, and Mystique will use it to teach the children football.”  


“I suppose I should step in then,” Charles whispered. His own hands had come to rest lightly at Erik’s waist. He wanted to close the distance between them. Instead he huffed a laugh and twisted away, placing his suitcase on his bed. “It wouldn’t do for you to suffer such an undignified fate,” he continued.  


“Good,” Erik muttered. He could feel Erik approach him. From the corner of his eye, he tracked Erik’s hand rise, as if to touch him. After a loaded moment, the hand dropped. “I’ll...go, then. If you’d like, I’ll be taking dinner in my rooms. We could play chess.”  


“I’d like that,” Charles said. He turned around with a bracing smile, more confident than he felt. They looked at each other for a long beat before Erik turned on his heel and left. Logan popped his head in, gesturing with his cigar.  


“Everything ok here? You ready to go?”  


“Thank you, Logan, but it seems I’ll be staying.”  


“Your choice, bud. You know where to find me if you change your mind.” With that, Logan withdrew to wherever Logan stayed when he wasn’t working in the bay. Charles took a deep, if unnecessary, breath before leaving the safety of his room. He could puzzle over his conversation with Erik later, but he did know one thing for certain. The children, and Genosha, did need him.  


****  


Erik was not nervous. Erik didn’t get nervous. He’d faced Shaw and Stryker in battle more than once without breaking a sweat, so clearly he was not nervous.  


That didn’t explain why he couldn’t bring himself to stop pacing the floor in his quarters, or why he’d changed his shirt six times in the past twelve minutes.  


It was just Charles, after all. They’d spent time together before. And sure, it this would be the first time they’d do so after their...fight, and after he learned that the man was an android, but still. There was no reason for nervousness. He hadn’t been nervous around Charles before, after all. Well, not very nervous. Only a little bit.  


So Charles had always made him nervous. So what?  


He certainly didn’t jump when the door chirped before admitting Xavier.  


“Hello, Charles,” he said far too quickly. He stepped forward to...he didn’t know. Thankfully, Charles took that as an invitation to hug. He smelled nice, Erik realized.  


“Chess?” Charles asked, heading to the table where Erik had set up the game.  


“Indeed,” Erik answered. Time to gather his bearings. It wouldn’t do to be beaten like a novice.  


“Are you alright?” Charles asked. “If you’d rather I leave, I will.”  


“No,” Erik sputtered.  


“Are you sure? Being fine with having a synthetic onboard is different from having a personal relationship with one. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had cold feet after finding out.” Charles’ voice seemed light, and his face didn’t give anything away, but Erik knew that the forced nonchalance hid past hurts.  


“Stay,” Erik ordered. Charles raised an eyebrow, but complied.  


“Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about while we play?”  


“Just play the game, Charles.”  


Xavier smirked at him as he made his opening move, and then their attention stayed on the board. The android -- no, man --Charles played very well, and while a small part of Erik thought it had to be due to being a computer, the vast majority of himself had the good sense to hate that small part of himself for its thoughts.  


“Checkmate,” Erik said some time later.  


“Indeed,” Charles smiled as he tipped over his king. “And well played, if I may say so.”  


“You may,” Erik said, magnanimously  


“I...I’m aware of the Hellfire Club, you know. I’ve never met them, of course, but they’re well known, even in Westchester. I know about Emma Frost. I want you to know that I’m not like Emma,” Charles blurted in a rather shaky non sequitur and he reached out and toyed with a bishop. “I’m ashamed to say it didn’t occur to me until after our talk that...well, she might have colored your view as to synthetics. And I’m not like her, I promise.”  


Erik looked up and was surprised to see Charles in obvious distress. He looked pale, and drawn, and his eyes seemed as though they held back tears.  


“I know, Charles,” Erik said as he set his hand on top of Charles’.  


“It would be a reasonable fear, after all.” Charles looked down at the board and Erik’s chest hurt for his friend. “People rely on past experiences to make assumptions about the future, and of course I can’t expect that not to happen here, not after everything Shaw and Emma have done.”  


“Listen, Charles,” Erik said. He squeezed Charles’s hand. “I know you’re not like Emma. She wouldn’t have taken such time with the children, and she wouldn’t have challenged them, or me. Shaw wouldn’t allow it.”  


“But everything they’ve done--”  


“Is terrible, and it is on them. Not us.” Erik tried to send Charles a projection of his firm belief in what he said, though Charles still seemed unsure. Erik stood and walked beside Xavier, and ran a hand through Charles’s thick hair.  


“Do you fear me because things Shaw has done?” Erik tried.  


“Of course not,” Charles started, looking up at Erik plaintively.  


“And I don’t fear you because of Emma. I...admit, when I first learned, I let that color my response. That was wrong of me, Charles. I am sorry.”  


“I..should have told you,” Charles said, relaxing against Erik’s belly. He leaned into Erik’s hand like the cats would on his grandmother’s farm when he was a young boy, before Shaw and his forces swooped upon Erik’s home and destroyed everything.  


“If it’s not too much to ask,” Charles murmured after a long silence, “what do you plan on doing about the Hellfire Club?”  


“I hardly know at the moment. We’ve got scouts looking for them, in addition to the general lookouts. If we find them, I plan on crushing them.”  


“I don’t know if I can fully approve going into this planning to kill,” Charles muttered into Erik’s shirt, “but I understand the need to stop him. And I can’t see how a man like Shaw could be stopped otherwise. I know we disagree on some things, Erik, but as long as Shaw is around I don’t see how we can establish peace.”  


“Stryker and Trask are no less a threat,” Erik replied. Charles looked up at him as if he was to restart their argument, but sighed instead.  


“No, you’re right. But there are humans working against them too, you know. You’re not alone.”  


“And how would you know about human plans, my friend?” Erik asked, voice cold.  


“Oh hush,” Charles answered as he swatted Erik’s hip. “I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve made friends. We keep in touch, as friends. I’m not feeding any Genoshan secrets to your enemies.”  


Erik wanted to fight Charles on that, wanted to insist that any communications with humans was too much, but instead he let it go, for the moment. Their tentative peace seemed too fragile to push that point, he thought. And in the face of Charles’ dopey grin, the point hardly seemed important, anyway.  


****  


Charles and Erik soon established a routine to meet in the evenings, after classes were finished and Erik had adjourned the meetings for the day. Charles had found a bottle of amber liquor hidden away in the mess, and had made the executive decision to annex it for himself and Erik, for the greater good. Erik had laughed himself silly when Charles told him.  


Charles hadn’t expected their relationship to regain its cordiality after their argument, but he’d been proven wrong. If pressed, he’d admit that he and Erik seemed to get on even better than they had before. They played chess often, but other nights they’d meet and simply spoken of their pasts, of Westchester and silence or of a loving family destroyed by a mad man. Some nights they just sat in each other’s company, content in their shared silence.  


One evening, nearly a month after their argument and a month after the beginning of their nightly meetings, Charles arranged for the children to have a performance of sorts to display their progress with their powers. The leadership of Genosha, from Ororo Munroe to Logan, had been invited. They had been pleased by the student’s performances, except for when Alex had accidentally set Hank’s hair on fire. Charles didn’t think anyone particularly understood or cared for the finale -- the full group’s performance of a puppet show -- but Erik was polite enough to feign interest, and everyone else was enjoying a new shipment of the amber liquor Charles was so fond of.  


In the mornings, he’d taken to joining Mystique in the mess during her breakfast. He still didn’t care for the clanging noise of plates and trays and thoughts, but their schedules only ever overlapped then.  


She’d usually be fairly uncommunicative until Charles passed her a cup of coffee, and after she’d had a chance to drink it, they’d talk about their days. Charles didn’t know if she wanted that much of him in her life these days, but she never told him to stop coming. So long as she let him, he’d be there. He’d missed her terribly when she left, and had convinced himself they’d not meet again. It seemed like a gift now, to see her every day, and he listened raptly when she talked about working her way up the Genoshan hierarchy. Mystique seemed happier than he could remember.  


During the days, the students made leaps and bounds with their learning and with their powers, and even Marie joined in the practice sessions held every other day. She’d surprised everyone by taking Bobby’s hand with her own bare one, and starting a snowball fight in the training room. She’d hugged Charles afterwards without saying anything. He’d been beyond chuffed for the rest of the day, even after Scott threw up on his shoes.  


That evening, Erik seemed to be in high spirits as well.  


“You seem well pleased, my friend,” Charles commented.  


“We’ve received news on Stryker,” Erik admitted. “He’s on our side of the Neutral Zone. I’ve sent out a force. If this goes well, Charles…”  
Erik didn’t finish that statement, but he didn’t need to. Charles knew full well that if Stryker could be taken down, Genosha would be much more secure. Charles was confident that a peace deal wouldn’t be far behind, especially once Moira’s team took out Trask’s department. Moira would make sure of it, and then Erik could have her assistance in going after Shaw, even if Erik didn’t believe that humans opposed Trask’s plans.  


“Congratulations, my friend,” Charles smiled. He grabbed one of Erik’s hands and squeezed. Erik looked at him, and Charles stepped closer without consciously deciding to. He stopped breathing as something warm and heavy in his abdomen fluttered.  


“Is this okay?” he asked as he brought his free arm to wrap around Erik’s shoulders.  


Erik nodded, bringing a hand to cup Charles’ cheek. Charles leaned closer and brushed his lips against Erik’s.  


He felt like he was on fire, but he never wanted it to end. Sparks danced behind his eyes and no matter how tightly he clutched broad shoulders, it couldn’t be tight enough. Judging from how Erik pulled at Charles, the other man felt the same way.  


“General,” Logan’s voice crackled over the radio. “We’ve got an emergency here.”  


“Dammit,” Erik muttered against Charles’ mouth. Using all of his not insignificant willpower, Charles pulled away. Erik ran a hand through his hair before grabbing the comm.  


“Details, Logan,” Erik spat.  


“We’ve got news on Shaw. He’s flying close-by. What are your instructions.”  


Erik looked at Charles as he answered. “Call anyone available to the docks. I’m on my way. We’ll leave in fifteen minutes.”  


“Right-o,” Logan answered. The radio went silent.  


“You’ll stay here, Charles,” Erik ordered. “I’ll leave who I can, but you’ll be in charge. It won’t be for too long, Mystique should be able to take care of Stryker soon and will be on her way back.”  


“Okay,” Charles swallowed. “Okay. Good luck. Or break a leg.”  


“This isn’t theater,” Erik smiled. “I’ll come see you as soon as I get back.”  


Charles nodded and watched as Erik strode out of his quarters. With luck, he thought, we’ll all be safe by morning. He ignored how that thought tasted like ashes.  


******  


Within a half hour after Erik’s teams left, Charles had gathered the children in the mess hall for a late dinner and explained what he knew. The students took the news well, for the most part.  


“Fuck yeah,” Alex hollered. “Suck on that, Stryker!”  


“Oh my god, can you imagine,” Angel bubbled. “You were right, prof! This is going to be over! We’ll actually be free.”  


Hank seemed far giddier than he’d ever been before, even when discussing science with Charles and Jean.  


They stayed like that, talking, imagining a bright future, until far later than Magneto would ever let them stay up.  


“All right, time for sleep.” Charles announced a short time later, spirits buoyed up at the children’s joy. “Early to bed and all that.”  


An hour later, everything went to hell.  


****  


“What’s your status”, Erik asked Ororo and Logan over the ship’s radios. The fleet of Omega ships sped toward the coordinates where Shaw’d been located, with Erik taking the lead in Omega-A. They’d soon arrive, and Erik raced blindly towards what he hoped would be his final confrontation with Shaw. He’d waited for this for nearly three decades, after all. Revenge was past due.  


“On your six,” Logan grunted over the waves.  


“I’m on your right,” Ororo confirmed. Erik smiled like a knife blade and urged Omega-A faster. He almost didn’t notice the red flashing light indicating an incoming message from the Blackbird.  


“There’s a problem, General,” Mystique’s voice broke through on the secure emergency line. “There’s nothing here.”  


“What do you mean,” Erik answered, monitoring his viewer for any sign of the enemy.  


“What I mean is, nothing’s here. No ships, no signs of ships. The computer isn’t picking up any traces of anything being here in the past long time. Should I wait here in case Stryker’s en route, or should I make my way to your fight?”  


Erik’s mouth went dry as he scanned the area around him. There were no signs of ships anywhere, he realized. Shaw might still be ahead, but for them to come this far and not see any evidence? It was unlikely. There’d be traces of spent fuel, or environmental readings. He checked all of the readouts again. Not a damn thing. Fear and anger burned deep in his gut, and his pulse pounded in his head.  


“Any signs of Shaw?”  


“Nothing,” Logan answered. “I’m beginning to think we’ve been set up.”  


“I think you’re right,” Erik answered. He opened the radio to every Genoshan ship in the area. “Everyone, pull back. Return to base, and be careful. Logan, radio Genosha. Tell them to get ready for a snake in the grass.”  


Erik turned around in a short arc and started back pushing Omega-A harder than he ever had before. He hoped they’d make it back in time.  
***  


The klaxons rang, urging Charles on towards the mainframe.  


“What’s going on?” Jean wailed, catching up to him in the halls. He wished he could tell her he knew, or that it would be okay.  


“Join the others in the second bunker. I’ll take care of the rest out here,” he smiled. It wasn’t a lie, at least. He’d take care of it, or he’d die trying. He blocked that thought from reaching Jean, though. It wouldn’t do to worry her.  


He tracked Jean’s movements through the base as he ran forward. There were a few stragglers making their way towards the safe bunker, and he slowed his pace until they made it in safely.  


_Hank,_ he sent on a tendril of thought. Everyone should be there. I need you to keep them safe and calm.  


_What?_ Hank sent back, the single world laced with panic. _Aren’t you coming?_  


_I can’t, not yet. They planned this well. They’re almost past the remaining crew here. Don’t open the door to anyone. Not even me._  


_How will we know when it’s safe_  


_I reckon we’ll all know when it’s over, one way or another._  


Charles cut off contact with Hank’s mind and raced the few remaining yards to the mainframe room. He distantly monitored the progress of the intruders, nearly through the bay guards now. He had less time than he had hoped.  


“C’mon,” he hissed as he typed override codes, locking all the doors in the base. It was only a band aid, but it’d buy time. He ripped off the top of his left ring finger and searched the computer for an access port.  


He should have done this earlier, he thought angrily. He should have familiarized himself with the computers, known how to access them in an emergency. An attack was just a matter of time, he’d been foolish to think it’d never come. He groped along the machine as he followed intruders through the bay and into the halls of the base proper.  


“Ah!” he called as his finger slotted over the port. He had just connected, just started the process of interfacing with the security systems, when a crushing grip closed over his shoulder and pulled him away. The shock of disconnect muddled his senses for a moment, but it was enough time for the attacker to level a kick to his midsection.  


“Another one, sugar?” the attacker asked in a honeyed voice. He looked up into Emma Frost’s vicious, smiling face. “Here I thought I was the belle of this robot ball.”  


He caught her kick, but just barely. He pushed her back with all of his strength and wrenched himself to his feet. She stumbled back, catching herself on the mainframe. She left a clawed indent when she let go.  


“Don’t do this,” he whispered as she ran toward him.  


“It’s already done,” she smirked. “Do try to keep up.” Her hand connected with his face, and he felt the odd, unpleasant sensation of his skin covering being torn away. He ducked away, deflecting from where she tried to get a grip on his neck. He let his momentum carry him away, rolling back toward the mainframe.  


“Come on, sugar. It’s playtime.”  


“Why are you working with Shaw?” He asked. “He’s just using you.”  


“And I’m just using him? What’s your point?” Charles ducked away from her assault. He caught her arm and flung her back, connecting hard with the concrete wall. She was slow, somehow. Her movements were slightly jerky, just a little off. _Oh Emma,_ he thought, _what has Shaw done to you_.  


He needed time to connect to the security system. He’d been able to communicate briefly with the computer when he connected, but not nearly enough. He’d been able to keep the intruders out of the bunker, but he had no idea for how long. He launched himself at Emma when she stumbled to her feet, and grabbed her jaw.  


“You have no idea what Sebastian has in store for you,” she hissed.  


“I am sorry,” he murmured as he hit her head against the wall again, and again. Her skin casing had peeled away, revealing her metal skeletal structure. Her visible eye glared red, balefully, but he couldn’t stop now. She grasped at his face, strength failing. It was no victory when her neck connector gave way, body dropping heavily to the ground. He couldn’t look at her inert form as he trudged back to the computer, connecting with the security system. He’d tracked the intruders through the building, and activated the emergency security protocols.  
Erik had been ruthless, even in this. It was the work of but a moment to find the intruders, and took less time than that even to activate the failsafes. He couldn’t stop himself from hearing screams of agony as they died, one after another after another until the only thing outside of the bunker was silence.  


It would weigh on him, these deaths, even though he didn’t know what he could have done to avoid them without risking himself or the children. Emma could be repaired; the biologicals were silenced forever.  


*****  


Erik urged the ship faster than he ever had before. It’d been a set up, and he made a note to chastise himself later for falling into the trap so easily.  


“How far out are you?” Mystique asked over the radio, voice all business..  


“Forty minutes. I’ll try to get us back in thirty.”  


“Noted. We’re at least an hour out, but will see what we can do”  


He was grateful for her presence, and more grateful still for her silence. LeBeau moved quietly in the background, but Erik couldn’t give a shit about what he was up to.  


It had to be either Shaw or Stryker. Trask would never venture this far from the human held zones, and the sentinels weren’t strong enough to come so far on their own. But both Shaw or Stryker would easily be brazen enough to arrange this attack, and it was only the knowledge deep in his bones that the only person either of them possibly hated more than himself was each other that kept him from suspecting a team-up.  


It had to be either Shaw or Stryker, and either of them would have enough power to do god knows what to the base, and the children, and _Charles_ \--  


But he couldn’t go there, not if he was going to keep himself together. There’d be time for weeping later. And for mourning, if it came to that, but not now, _not now_.  


He barely noticed as LeBeau made his way to the front, and ignored the hushed conversations between his two commanders over the radio.  
They were twenty minutes out.  


***  


“Well, what do we have here?” a voice called behind him. Charles wrenched around, still connected to the mainframe, taking in the form of a man of middling height wearing a dull and sinister helmet. No wonder then that Charles hadn’t been able to sense him approach, but how he’d avoided the security failsafes was beyond him.  


“You won’t get any farther, Shaw,” Charles said calmly. He hoped it wasn’t all bravado as he interfaced desperately with the computers, digging in deeper and deeper to protect the children from this monster in human face.  


“Sadly, I agree. I made a tactical error. If it makes you feel better, it’s not one I intend to repeat.” Shaw shrugged, and pointed an unfamiliar weapon at Charles.  


“Pity about Emma,” Shaw continued, looking almost fondly at her slumped and severed body. “But I suppose she can always be replaced.” With that, he pulled the trigger.  


Charles had expected bullets, or lasers. Something he knew, and although it would not be pleasant, not with his pain sensors, something survivable. He was unprepared for the bright flash that exploded from Shaw’s weapon, and unprepared for the fires that engulfed his circuits. Whatever it was made of was ruthlessly efficient, spreading through him and shutting his systems down, and he wondered if this is what the intruders felt before they died.  


He realized distantly that he was clawing at his face, tearing away more of his skin and scratching at his chassis, as if he could stamp out the pain.  


Everything was overloaded, everything was hot and oh god  


the pain was unlikeee 

  


aaanyttttthinng

  


anything. anything. anyy-  


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Charles slumped to the floor, bright eyes fading to dull, still connected to the system.  


*****  


“Good god,” Logan whispered as the bay finally, _finally_ came into view. There was carnage everywhere, bodies and gore, the few ships that had been left behind in various stages of destruction.  


“Attend to the survivors,” Erik barked as Logan pulled into dock. “Contact any scouting parties not yet heading back and order them to return immediately.”  


He hit the ground running, past the bay and into the base. He didn’t give much pause for the dead bodies wearing an unfamiliar uniform -- Charles had activated the emergency protocol then. He picked up speed, rushing towards the bunkers as Mystique’s voice crackled in his headset reporting that she’d arrived back.  


The doors were still closed. That seemed slightly odd, he noted.  


“It’s me,” he called, hitting the door with his open palm. “Let me in.”  


“We can’t,” a voice -- Hank, perhaps -- answered shrilly. “The doors won’t respond to my override code.”  


“Where’s Charles?” Erik asked. He quashed down rising panic. Surely Charles was in there, comforting one of the younger children.  


“We don’t know,” a new voice called, panicking. “He told us to come here but I don’t know where he went.”  


Erik swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. “Okay. Stay there,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.” He ignored the panicked yells behind him and made his way back to the bay, numb.  


“Erik?” Mystique’s voice crackled over the radio. “Erik, I think you should come to the computer room. Please.” Her voice seemed shaky, even considering the poor transmission. He burst into a run without fully realizing it, wanting and recoiling from the answers in that room with equal measure.  


The room looked like a war zone. The bay had been bad, but the destruction here was nigh unimaginable. The walls were cracked, and the door had been torn off its hinges. The computer had been battered. Emma Frost’s destroyed body lay to the side, though he only skimmed over her and the computer and the walls and everything except for the still body propped against the main console.  


“Charles..” he whispered, covering the few feet between them before dropping to his knees. “Oh Charles.”  


He was aware of Mystique crying in the background, but he couldn’t turn away from Charles. He was damaged, opalescent plastic skeleton visible through torn and patchy skin. His hair - what was left of it - was matted with the red and white fluids that acted as his blood. Erik couldn’t stop himself from pulling the other man into his arms, breath hitching as he buried his face into Charles’s shoulder.  


“Right,” Mystique said as she dashed the tears from her face. She moved towards the computer and started typing.  


“What are you doing?” Erik didn’t look up. The whole of his world constricted to the weight in his arms. He pressed a kiss to the cool, marred brow.  


“Trying to get the kids out,” she answered distantly. “Looks like Charles made some changes while he was here.”  


“He’s still attached.” Erik reached for the hand hanging limply from the port, but Mystique kicked it away.  


“Don’t touch him. I don’t know if he’s still connected somehow, and you’re not going to hurt him by unplugging him now.”  


“I’d never,” Erik gasped, pulling his hand back like it was burnt. “Do you think he’s okay?”  


“Okay? No, I don’t. But I’m not giving up on him so easy.” She turned towards him and looked at him, as serious as he had ever seen her. “We’re going to need Stark.”  


“No,” Erik answered automatically. “He’s a human.”  


“And he’s the only chance Charles has. If you stop this, I swear to god, Erik I will end you.”  


Erik breathed in sharply. Letting a human into Genosha was unthinkable. Impossible. He might as well trot out and offer his jugular to Trask and the rest.  


But. The thought of a world without Charles was even less appealing. If there was a chance of saving him, Erik would take it and be glad for it. Even if it meant letting a human in. _Oh, Xavier, what have you done to me?_  


“Of course,” he admitted. “Do what you have to do. Just, get him here.”  


“Don’t worry, he’ll come with bells on for Charles,” she said with a small, worried smile. “Tony’s always wanted to get his hands on Charles.”  


Erik didn’t bother to stamp down a wave of jealousy at that, pulling Charles closer and narrowing his eyes.  


“I didn’t know either of you knew Stark,” he grit out. He ignored Mystique’s smug look.  


“He grew up near Westchester. His dad knew Brian Xavier. He was mad for Charles.”  


Erik didn’t like this line of conversation one bit.  


“Pryde and Azazel are back,” Logan’s tinny voice called on the radio. “Sounds like Braddock and her team aren’t too far off. I’m bringing the survivors to the med bay.”  


“Good,” Mystique responded. “I’ve almost got the kids out. How are things in the docking bay?”  


“Fine, if you like that sort of thing. Shit, if you don’t. It’s all a matter of opinion,” Logan drawled. Erik shifted Charles to one arm and grabbed the radio from his lieutenant.  


“Find Stark, and bring him here. That’s your priority now,” he told Mystique.  


****  


Finding Stark was surprisingly easy, given that they were in a war zone with spotty communications. The man apparently liked to make a spectacle of himself. Mystique had tracked him down to the most infamous bar in the Neutral Zone within an hour, and had established contact shortly thereafter. Erik hadn’t been present for the conversation, but apparently after making sure Mystique wasn’t an angry ex or an angry business associate, he’d been eager to help. When he found out Charles was involved, the Stark left his party, which was apparently an unheard of event, and piloted his private ship directly to Genosha. Mystique expected him to arrive before afternoon. It was the only bright spot in an otherwise miserable day.  


There were no casualties on any of the away teams, which didn’t surprise Erik as the information about Stryker and Shaw had been a red herring to lure fighters away from Genosha. Luckily, for some poor value of luck, not many Genoshans were left at the mercy of Shaw. They only suffered fourteen casualties.  


Still, every loss ate at him. He should have seen the trap for what it was. It wasn’t enough to say he’d do better next time.  


He walked through Genosha’s halls, taking note of the dings and scuffs to the walls. McCoy had gathered some other technical-minded mutants and started repairing damage to the infrastructure and the bay, and headed up the cleaning crew with the students. He made a note to thank them all later. Eventually, he found himself back bay Charles, and took a seat near his friend.  


“Stark’s on his way,” he soothed. “You’re going to be fine. Stark will be here soon, and he’ll make you better in no time. Trust me.”  


*****  


Tony Stark was a menace.  


The man had only been in Genosha for an hour and a half, but he’d already taken apart the entire mainframe and annexed Hank, Armando, Marie, and Alex as gofers. He’d broken into Angel’s secret coffee stash (and oh, Erik was going to have words with her for holding out on him), and he was pretty sure he was propositioning Mystique.  


Or perhaps it was the other way around.  


At any rate, having Stark around was something like having a particularly ill-mannered tornado whooshing around the base. Erik would have been tempted to force him out an airlock, except. He was Charles’ only hope. There really wasn’t an option.  


At least Stark took that seriously. He had taken one look at Charles, and at Emma, and had snapped into action. And, to be fair, Hank, Armando, Marie, and Alex had all wanted to help Charles, however they could.  


“Clever bastard,” Tony muttered. He had various machines plugged into the mainframe, and to Charles, and into Emma. Erik refused to leave him alone when Genosha --and Charles -- was so vulnerable.  


“What,” Erik snapped. Tony either didn’t notice or didn’t care about Erik’s tone, and instead just grinned at him insolently.  


“Charles. He’s a clever bastard all right. I don’t know what the hell he got hit by, but it did a goddamn number on him, fried some of the circuits to hell. Have you ever seen a fried cortex? Really neat, take a look. Kinda looks like a squid, am I right?”  


Erik tried not to shake as Stark continued talking about how Charles’ brain had been damaged. He sat down heavily, though, feeling his small hope fade away.  


“So he’s gone, then?” Erik asked, voice hoarse.  


“What? I mean, this is bad, don’t get me wrong. But like I said, Charles is a clever bastard. He saved himself, I think. I thought you guys had a virus, but usually viruses aren’t helpful and don’t ask about my day and tell me, oh, he says to tell you that he’s ok, and --”  


Erik pushed Tony aside and crouched by the whirling and beeping machines leading in and out of Charles. He couldn’t make sense of any of the beeps or lights, and turned back to Stark.  


“What are you saying?” He reached out and clutched Charles hand.  


“He’s okay. He’s in the computer. He...I’m not sure how, but he‘s there.”  


“Find him,” Erik grit out. He looked down at Charles’ lax body, torn and damaged but still beautiful. It was Charles, after all. How could he ever be anything else?  


“I’m working on it, a little patience would be nice.” Stark muttered. “Blondie over here’s already pretty much good to go whenever. I mean, I need to get some new skin stuff but other than that, fine and dandy.”  


“No one told you to work on her,” Erik hissed. “I thought we had her removed.”  


“Yeah, but Charles asked us to take a look, so whatever. Should I wake her up?”  


“No!”  


“Oooh, sorry. Charles says ‘go for it,’ so I guess it’s two against one.”  


Erik reached out for Frost’s metal skeleton, ready to destroy her. Tony was fast, though, and Frost’s eyes were lighting up even before Erik could take stock of the situation.  


“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” Stark smiled. Erik wished, not for the first time, that he could have saved Charles without the aid of this...insubordinate buffoon.  


Frost jerked back from Stark, glancing around the room.  


“Explain,” she ordered. Erik narrowed his gaze, powers constricting against Frost.  


“Well,” Stark answered with apparently no awareness of the tension in the room, “I’m Tony Stark, resident genius, and this fine gentleman is Magneto.”  


Emma narrowed her intact eye. Erik felt almost impressed how much scorn she radiated towards the irritating human. “I know that,” she spat. “Why am I here? Where is Xavier? Where is Shaw?”  


Erik saw red at the mention of his enemy. “You dare say his name here?” He kept his voice quiet, but laced with cold hate.  


“Sugar, I will say _whatever_ I please. And I owe Sebastian a little visit,” she answered. Her voice sounded level and far too calm for the situation at hand.  


“Hey, still here,” Stark interrupted. “I sorted out your programming. Someone had done a hell of a hatchet job on it. Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t end up worse off than Dummy.”  


“Like I said, I owe Sebastian a little visit.” Erik realized that Frost’s cool voice barely covering a mountain of rage. He remembered what Charles had said, all those weeks ago. He shuddered at the implications.  


“I’m just saying, a thanks would be nice,” Stark whined.  


“What are your plans as far as Shaw is concerned?” Erik asked.  


“I expect about the same as yours,” Frost replied with her trademark poise..  


Erik considered his options. “You have information on Shaw and his forces. We have an army. If you’d like to join us, welcome aboard. If you try at any time to cross us, I will destroy you.”  


Emma tipped her head with a small, vicious smile. “Same to you, Mr. Lehnsherr. For now, we have a deal.”  


*****  


“Hey boss man,” Tony called as Erik made his way to Charles.  


“Stark,” Erik answered. He’d had to attend to the running of Genosha, and planning a counterstrike against Shaw. Unfortunately, he couldn’t spend all day with Charles, no matter what he’d like.  


“Charlie boy is quite the guy, ain’t he?” Tony asked. He sat cross-legged on the floor, juggling attention between three different monitors hooked up to who knew what.  


“That he is.” Erik answered, taking Charles’ hand in his own.  


“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Tony muttered. “And believe you me, I know robots. Like, my dad knew Brian Xavier back when Charles was just an idea, and I heard him tell my mom that he’d never thought Brian would succeed with Chuck here. But this is beyond anything I’d ever expected.”  


Erik didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to snap at Tony, but he didn’t want to jeopardize Charles’ recovery. _I know you’re more than your programming,_ he thought at Charles. _You’re you, Charles. You’re magnificent, everything you are._  


“Hey lovebirds,” Tony groused, staring at a monitor. “Charles is blushing in here like a nun on her wedding night.” Erik looked up as the computers surrounding them let out an irritated sounding string of beeps.  


“Yes, Charles,” Tony responded. “I know nuns don’t have wedding nights.” Another peal of beeps sounded afterwards. “Yes, I know that’s the point. Whatever, you and Mags here have all the mental boning you want. I’ll just sit here like a grossed out chiphead. Poor Tony, no one ever thinks about you.”  


The computer beeped loudly, just once.  


“I’m not even dignifying that with an answer,” Tony muttered, as he typed madly at a keyboard. Erik smirked at Charles’ blank face and squeezed his hand. It was heartening that at least someone could keep control of Stark.  


*****  


“Ok folks,” Stark called over the radio one morning, far too early for anyone’s comfort. “Time to gather ‘round and see what Uncle Tony can do.”  


Emma, now fully repaired, stood behind Tony with her arms crossed and a white scarf around her neck, covering where the seam of her reattached skin material still showed. Hank fidgeted beside her. Charles lay quietly on the floor, as he had since the attack, although his skin coverings had been replaced. Beside him, as usual, sat Erik.  


“All here? You better be here, I’m awesome and you all need to admit how awesome I am. Ok, so, ta-da!” With a flourish, Stark pushed a large red button on a pad.  


At first, nothing happened. Charles still lay on the floor, pale and vulnerable looking under the harsh lights. Then, slowly, blue eyes opened. Erik’s breath hitched. Oh, he’d missed those eyes.  


Charles smiled softly and reached up with his free hand to trace over Erik’s cheek.  


“Hello, old friend,” he murmured. “I’m sorry if I caused any worry.”  


Erik made a soft choking sound and pulled Charles up, into a tight embrace.  


“Never do that again,” he choked out. Everyone in the room averted their gazes as Charles raised his hand and ran it through Erik’s hair, again and again. When Erik pulled back and looked at Charles with suspiciously wet eyes, the others filed out unobtrusively. Neither Charles nor Erik noticed the audience, or the removal of the audience, as Erik pulled Charles close and peppered his face with kisses. Charles moaned softly at the attentions.  


“I love you,” Erik whispered, a tiny prayer against Charles’ skin. “I didn’t know until you were gone. I’ll kill Shaw for what he did to you, I swear I will.”  


“Hush,” Charles soothed into Erik’s ear, using the proximity to bite gently at the lobe, running his hands over Erik’s shoulders, his back, his flank. “I’ve missed you. I need you. We can talk later, _please_.”  


“Have I told you you’re a genius,” Erik smiled as he pushed Charles back to the floor. This time he covered Charles with his own body. Oh, it was a joy to learn how the planes and angles of Charles fit against his own limbs and torso, how if he moved just right, his hips could slot perfectly between the V of Charles’s legs.  


Somehow, Erik hadn’t expected an answering hardness to press against his own. Charles looked up at him, smug and adoring and impatient all at once.  


“Mr. Xavier,” Erik growled, “ I believe that you’ve been holding out on me.”  


“Oh, Mr. Lehnsherr,” Charles laughed, free and beautiful. With a quick motion he flipped Erik on his back and loomed over him, rutting his cock against Erik’s own. “I think you’ll find this is just the beginning.”  


Erik pulled Charles down into a heated kiss. Smug looked damn good on Charles, but Erik found it rewarding in its own way to kiss the beautiful android into stupefaction.  


***  


“They’re fucking in my office, aren’t they?” Tony asked no one in particular.  


“Yes,” everyone answered at once.  


“It’s not fair. If anyone’s going to be fucking in there, it should be me! That’s why you have an office. Otherwise, what’s the point?”  


“I don’t think it’s technically your office,” Hank ventured. Tony waved his hand vaguely.  


“My stuff is there, ergo, my office.”  


“So, what are your plans now,” Mystique interrupted. “You got Charles up and at'em, planning on riding off into the sunset?”  


“I’m hurt, Commander, that you think so little of me.” Stark answered. “Why would I ride when I can fly?”  


Emma made an unladylike sound at that.  


“What are you planning on,” Hank asked. “You said you’d keep us secret.”  


Tony looked at Hank, serious. “Listen. I promised that, and I mean it. I’m not gonna spill about Genosha.”  


Mystique looked at Stark for a long beat before nodding. “Good. I’m not fond of extracting bloody vengeance. Keep it so I don’t have to.”  


“Listen. I can’t say much, but. Well, who am I kidding. It’s totally cool, I’m going to meet up with a group of people, and we’re gonna kick some ass.”  


“Whose ass do you plan on kicking,” Emma pressed.  


“Hey, let’s not get all stabby, kids. There’s enough ass kicking to go around, and don’t you think Trask makes such a delightful target? We want the war done, you guys want the war done. You don’t try to keep the fighting going for the sake of fighting, and we have no problem. Capisce?”  


“You’re so weird,” Mystique snorted. “But yeah. As soon as you all stop attacking us, we’ll stop fighting back. Unless we need to.”  


Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Like I said, kicking Trask’s ass. We just want to catch the bad guys and bring intergalactic peace to all. No biggie.”  


At that moment, the door to the computer mainframe swooshed open, letting a blushing and disheveled Magneto and Charles Xavier out.  


“Good reunion,” Mystique called. Tony wolf-whistled and elbowed Erik in the ribs.  


“Back to work,” Erik snapped. The effect was somewhat ruined by mussed hair and a large hickey forming under his ear.  


*****  


“What have I missed?” Charles asked into Erik’s sweaty neck. He was sprawled across Erik like a rather heavy blanket, the two of them lying nude in Erik’s large, comfortable bed. Erik had welcomed Charles back to the land of the living quite thoroughly, but business couldn’t be put aside forever.  


Shaw had attacked Genosha, and would do so again, Charles was sure. If not Genosha, then one of the other mutant settlements, or the Shi’ar empire, or continue his incessant aggressions against humans. Shaw needed to be stopped, permanently, even Charles had to admit.  


“We’ve been able to track Shaw back into our territory, but haven’t got an exact location. Yet.” Erik dipped his head to press a kiss against Charles’ forehead.  


“What about Stryker?”  


Erik raised an eyebrow at that question. “Change of heart? I thought you disapproved of such violent actions.”  


Charles pinched Erik’s ribs -- no easy feat given Erik’s skinny stature.  


“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Charles pouted. “And I don’t think humans should be attacked willy-nilly. But Stryker and Trask? They need to be stopped. They’re just as bad as Shaw, if not worse.” He bit his lip while he contemplated the matter. “No, they’re much worse, come to that.”  


“Hmm. We should have done this sooner,” Erik murmured against the shell of Charles’ ear. “You’re so much more agreeable now.”  


“Ass,” Charles groused as he bit gently at Erik’s collarbone. “I’ve always thought that.” Charles magnanimously ignored Erik’s disbelieving stare. “What? I mostly did.”  


“Well,” Erik chuckled, as if it was normal to discuss the felling of one’s enemies during pillow talk, “in that case, I can admit that if we can stop the humans who would do us harm, I see no problem in letting the rest of them be.”  


“Mmmm,” Charles hummed. “It’s so hot when you’re sensible.”  


Erik smiled, bright and toothy, and squeezed Charles’ ass.  


“Well then, wait until you’ve heard my thoughts on inter-mutant treaties and growing Genosha’s trading output.” Erik smirked as Charles straddled him fully. “In fact, I think I’m having an epiphany about early mutant education right now.”  


It only made sense for Charles to shut Erik up, whatever means necessary. He started to move, and felt great satisfaction as Erik could only choke out groans in response.  


He proceeded to shut Erik up rather thoroughly, and with great efficiency. Three times.  


****  


Mystique knocked several times before entering Erik’s office. She walked in, hand covering her eyes, before announcing “I’ve received news about Shaw.”  


“Explain,” Erik said as he leaned forward. “And Charles isn’t even here. You can open your eyes.”  


Mystique paused and blinked before sitting in the large metal chair across the desk. “You can’t blame me for not wanting to see you boning the guy I think of as my brother.”  


Erik waved impatiently. “What news of Shaw?”  


“He’s close. And he’s not moving. We could be there in under three hours.”  


“How do you know this,” Erik pressed even as he began forming plans of attack.  


“Shaw told us,” Mystique admitted. “He radioed us in. He wants us to meet him.”  


“It’s certainly a trap, then.”  


“Certainly. I figure we’ll still meet him, and still take him down. We have him, Erik. We can do this.” She had stood up, looming over him as if she could convince him by the strength of her will. Erik smiled at her proudly.  


“Of course we will. Spread the word. We’ll leave at oh-twelve hundred.”  


***  


“I hear you know Moira,” Frost said in lieu of a more traditional greeting as she sidled up by Charles.  


“I might,” Charles hedged, looking at her from the corner of his eyes.  


“I need to reach her. Tell me how.”  


“What do you need to tell her,” he hedged.  


“We have mutual friends, she and I. I just need to pass on a message.” Emma drawled as she checked her nails. “I had a past before Shaw, you know.” Emma said nonchalantly. “I don’t have any grudge against humans _or_ mutants, so long as they don’t have a grudge against me. But it’s important I talk to her before we all run off after dear Sebastian. He’s radioed us, you know. Everyone in the bay is in quite the hurry. Can’t wait to run into another one of his traps.”  


Charles closed his eyes. “Okay. I’ll help. But you have to help me.”  


“I’m not much of a teacher.”  


“Not that. I need you to help me fight Shaw.”  


Emma laughed like a delighted child. “Oh, I’ve never had to do a favor I’d enjoy more. Send the message, and I’m yours. I know all sorts of things we can exploit against him.”  


“What do you know about his ship?”  


“Everything, doll. Everything.” Emma smiled at that, and Charles reached to his temple.  


“Tell me what to send,” Charles whispered. He dialed in to the main communication network and focused on locating Moira over the vastness of space. It was like a puzzle piece slotting into place, when he reached her. Her mind was puzzled and he sent Emma’s words to her without parsing what they meant. Disconnect brought dizziness, and he leaned heavily on the wall.  


“Now that’s done, sugar,” Emma said by his side, “how about we get this plan hatched?”  


***  


“I’m coming with you,” Charles announced as he entered the Omega-C ship. Erik continued his final flight check before looking over his shoulder and narrowing his eyes.  


“No,”  


“You need me,” Charles argued, stepping closer. “I can help.”  


“Last time Shaw nearly killed you.”  


“But he didn’t. Erik, I’m still here, and I can help.”  


“He has weapons specifically made to hurt you, Charles”  


“And he has weapons that can kill you! I can’t stay here, knowing you’re in danger.”  


Erik sighed. “Fine, but Charles, be careful. Be so careful, please.”  


“Hey,” Charles said, lifting Erik’s face by the chin. “You too.”  


“Oi, lovebirds,” LeBeau cried, banging on the hull. “Time to suit up. Shaw’s not gonna kill himself.”  


“Ready in Omega C,” Erik called into the comm system before heading to the cockpit. Charles followed, belting in the copilot’s seat.  


“You ready for this,” Erik murmured as he reached over to grab Charles’ hand.  


“Let’s find out,” Charles answered.  


*****  


They arrived at Shaw’s location after what was simultaneously too long and too short a flight.  


“Hold your positions,” Erik radioed to the Omega fleet around them. His stomach clenched as Shaw’s face came on the view screen.  


“Well, little Erik Lehnsherr,” Shaw drawled. Charles shot worried a look at Erik. It was as bad as he feared, nearly. Erik’s face was pinched and enraged, and his mind was a maelstrom. He sent a brief mental nudge like a kiss.  


“Hello Sebastian,” Charles answered. His voice was steady, and he knew his face was calm and serene. Shaw gave a small start at hearing Charles’ voice. _He must not have thought that I might make it,_ , Charles mused. “You are more than welcome to surrender. We promise your safety, and the safety of your crew, in exchange.”  


“Oh, little robot. You’re very foolish. Tell me, Erik, why did you keep him around? I expect it would have been easier to just get a new one.”  


“Oh sugar,” Emma sang through the connection. “You would think that, of course.” Shaw blanched at the sound of her voice.  


“Emma! So you’re repaired. Funny, I thought they wouldn’t make the parts anymore. I never even bothered to check.” Shaw’s voice was tight with forced jocularity.  


“You tried to break me. You failed, as I presume even _you_ can see.”  


“Hey-o!” Mystique called.  


_Are you ready?_ Charles thought at Emma. _We’re going to have to move fast if we have a chance_  


_Ready._ Emma sent. Her mind was eager. She wanted her revenge on Shaw nearly as much as Erik did.  


Charles turned to Erik.  


“I love you,” he said. Erik squeezed his hand.  


“I know,” Erik muttered. His eyes never wavered from Shaw.  


Charles walked to the rear portion of the ship and shut the door to the cockpit. He sent tendrils to Emma, Erik, and Mystique, and opened the door to space.  


*****  


“You can still join me,” Shaw said. Erik’s gut clenched with loathing.  


“I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” Erik snapped.  


“Is this about the base invasion? Honestly, Erik. You’ve got to let things go. That’s your problem, you know,” Shaw smiled viciously. “You’re stuck in the past.”  


“You killed my men. You killed my family.”  


“But it made you stronger! You wouldn’t have survived a minute against the humans without my lessons.”  


_Ignore him,_ Charles whispered in his mind. _Oh Erik, you’re so much stronger than him. Don’t let him hurt you any more, please_.  


_How are you coming?_ Erik couldn’t help but be terse. Not when Shaw was _so close_.  


_Almost there,_ Emma piped in. Erik jerked and shut her out.  


_Really, Erik_ Charles chided.  


_Hurry up, I can’t wait much longer_ Erik snapped.  


“I don’t care for humans, but at least they’re not targeting their own kind,” Erik hissed into the comm.  


“It’s so easy to be self-righteous when you’re young,” Shaw chuckled. Erik itched to open fire.  


_We’re here,_ Charles sent. _We’ll just need a few minutes more._  


“It’s also pretty easy to be self-righteous when you’re a dick,” Logan piped up. Mystique audibly choked back a laugh. Shaw flushed, blotchy red. He had always disliked being laughed at, Erik remembered.  


_NOW!_ Charles’ voice rang through. Erik nudged his ship forward and opened fire. On either side of him, the Genoshan ships followed suit, gliding forwards in their practiced positions.  


“I gave you a chance,” Shaw hissed. “But if this is how you want it to be, fine. You’re only bringing mutant kind down.” With that, Shaw’s face winked out.  


Shaw’s ship didn’t move - Erik was willing to bet Charles or Emma were to thank for that - but it was still at its peak for firing back, and still a mighty danger. The Genoshan fleet weaved in and out of range. The space around them flashed with explosions. Erik’s ship rocked from a shockwave and he corrected, turning as hard as he could to get in firing position.  


“I’m falling back,” Darwin’s voice crackled over the radio. “We’ve taken damage. I’ll try to distract fire, but the guns are down.”  


“I’ll cover you,” Azazel called. Ship Omega J broke formation in a graceful arc. Erik watched as Shaw’s ship fired after her, narrowly missing as Azazel dodged and weaved.  


Erik pressed in closer to the ship, firing rapidly before dropping down. His ship shuddered with a loud boom, and he saw sparks trailing his craft from the side of his eye.  


_Erik!_ Charles thought. His voice was panicked.  


_I’m fine._ Erik thought back, trying to soothe.  


“What’s your status, Magneto?” Mystique’s voice was faint, and Erik wasn’t sure if the damage was to his radio or if the hit had damaged his ears.  


“I’m okay,” he answered. “I’m going back in.”  


“Not a good idea, bub,” Logan called. “Looks like they’re after you.”  


Erik dipped and swerved, trying to avoid the worst of Shaw’s fury. But his ship had been damaged, and wasn’t responding as deftly as she would normally. Erik swallowed dry, and sent Charles a trace of apology mixed with love.  


He closed his eyes just as the explosion lit the sky.  


*****  


Charles looked on in horror as Shaw sent missile after missile at the Genoshan fleet. From this distance, he couldn’t tell who was who by sight, though keeping tabs on everyone’s minds was easy enough. He cried out when Darwin was hit, and blinked back tears when Angel pulled ahead, drawing fire to her. Hank’s mind flared with pain as his ship took a particularly nasty hit.  


_You should move away,_ Emma sent. She had already put good distance between herself and Shaw’s ship.  


He should, he knew he should, but.  


Erik danced in and out from Shaw’s ship. It was beautiful to watch, Omega C dancing amidst the blasts, coming closer and closer.  


Then the missile connected.  


_Erik!_ Charles thought, panicked. He twisted around and looked desperately for the cannons.  


_I’m fine._ Erik answered. Charles didn’t let himself relax. He propelled himself to the cannon nearest him. He ignored the heat from the blasts, and tucked himself between the ship and the exit port. The ship rocked as the cannon fired again. Erik’s ship shook at impact. Charles bit his lip, and kicked down with all his strength.  


_What are you doing?_ Emma called across the space.  


_You said earlier, the Sub had flaws with its weapons system. What do you think would happen if the cannon turret was plugged?_  


_Good call,_ Emma all but cooed. _But hurry up. I’m not aiming to break the news to your loverboy if this goes wrong_.  


The cannon gave. Charles gave another kick, and watched as the gun floated from the ship, innocuous and quiet. He grabbed it before it could get out of reach and forced it into the hole it had left in its wake, until the cannon port was fully plugged. Charles swallowed, and kicked off from the ship, launching himself towards the Genoshan fleet. He almost missed Erik’s soft tendril of thought even as he approached Omega C. He was going to reply. He needed to assure Erik that everything was going to be okay.  


Of course, the Hellfire chose that moment to explode behind him. The Genoshan fleet rocked at the force of the explosion, and Charles was flung forward, spinning wildly away from his friends.  


_Erik!_ he thought wildly. Then he crashed into something hard and unmovable, and didn’t know anything at all.  


*****  


“You stupid sonofabitch,” was the first thing Charles heard when he woke next. “I hope you’re happy, you damn near gave us all a thousand heart attacks. So help me god, if you ever pull shit like that again I’m going to kick your ass so hard…”  


Charles opened his eyes and took in the sight of Mystique in full rant mode. She was pacing, and gesturing wildly. Her body was changing rapidly before him, one moment blue, one moment blonde, one moment Logan.  


“Sorry,” he croaked.  


Mystique stopped in her tracks. “Sorry? Oh, you’re sorry?” She strode over to his cot and smacked him on his shoulder before hugging him tight.  


“The others?” He was afraid to know, but he needed too. If something happened to any of them…  


“Fine, mostly. Hank has broken ribs, Darwin’s ship is toasted, and Angel has a dislocated shoulder.”  


“Erik?”  


Mystique sighed. “He is going to yell at you so much, and you are going to deserve it. We thought you were dead! You should be dead! If it wasn’t for Stark--”  


“Tony?”  


“Yeah. He showed up in a metal flying suit and caught you before you drifted off forever. He and a bunch of humans on a weird ship. If it wasn’t for Emma and Moira, and Erik being so worried for you, I’m pretty sure if would have ended in explosions and tears.”  


“What were they doing there?” Charles asked, dumbstruck.  


“That’s what they’re talking out now. Logan and Darwin are meeting with Moira and some guy named Fury.”  


“Where’s Erik?”  


“He’s next door, actually. He got banged up pretty thoroughly in the fight. And by the way, as soon as he’s done yelling at your for taking stupid risks, feel free to do the same to him. Jesus, you two.” Mystique made a sound of disgust and turned on her heel. “If you need me, I’ll be in the target range. Letting off steam.”  


Charles barely had time to close his eyes before the door whooshed open again. Erik steamrolled in, lips pressed together and brow furrowed. His arm was in a sling and he walked with a pronounced limp. His face was a patchwork of scrapes and bruises, and he was the most beautiful thing Charles had ever seen.  


Charles sent a fond push full of love and apology, and was surprised to find that Erik’s mind was closed off, and Charles felt his stomach drop. He wouldn’t apologize for what he’d done, but he hated being the cause of Erik’s distress.  


“Charles,” Erik said shortly.  


“Hello, Erik.”  


Erik stood at the foot of the cot, staring at Charles inscrutably. Charles felt pinned down underneath its weight. They stared at each other in tense silence until Charles broke the gaze and started picking at the hospital bed sheet.  


“I won’t apologize for what I did,” Charles started, hesitantly.  


“Good lord, I don’t want you to apologize,” Erik snapped. “You killed Shaw. Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?”  


“Um,” Charles hedged. He dropped eye contact.  


“I want to pin you down,” Erik started in a low, gravelly voice. “And then I want to suck your cock until you’re blind with it. I want to finger you until you can’t even think of anything else. Then I’d like to fuck you. God, Charles, the things you do to me.”  


Charles’ mouth went dry. “Yes. Yes, is now good? Now works for me.”  


Erik pulled a sullen face. “Soon,” he whispered, glaring at the door. “When the humans are off base.”  


“Mystique mentioned that. What happened?”  


“Stark and his group showed up just as you destroyed the ship. Apparently Moira _somehow_ got a garbled message from Emma.” Erik sounded deeply suspicious at that. Charles reached out and clasped his hand.  


“Then what happened?”  


“Tony caught you, as if I wouldn’t have gone after you. Then General Fury hailed us. Apparently Fury had seen the fight from a distance and decided to stick his nose in.” He sighed and rubbed at his bruised face. “He offered us an alliance. We’ll fight Stryker and Trask and their ilk together. The humans are going after them. You were right about that, apparently.”  


“Oh Erik,” Charles whispered. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against Erik’s. “I’m right about so many things.”  


Erik smiled at that, then broke into a laugh. “So it would seem. I do hope I can count on you and your humility when we go after Stryker?”  


“But what of the children” Charles asked, mock scandalized. “It wouldn’t do to run off with the governess, you know.”  


“Sod the children, I’ve always been a fan of boarding schools,” Erik crooned. “Tell me you’ll be by my side.”  


“You’d have to push me into space to get rid of me,” Charles smiled as Erik pulled him into a kiss, and another, and another.  


****  


Charles hummed as he put away the few belongings he took from his room in Genosha. The quarters here were spartan, and the three framed photographs - Moira standing on a beach in Westchester, hair blowing in the wind and clutching a martini in one hand; Mystique lounging on the Blackbird with the students grouped in front of her; and one of himself and Erik, taken covertly by Azazel in the celebration after Shaw - did little to make the room warmer.  


Erik, on the other hand, excelled in that respect. He’d fallen asleep hours ago, and while Charles didn’t feel any need to sleep now, he’d been more than willing to lay in bed beside him until the need to do something more productive became overwhelming.  


Mystique slept soundly a few doors down, her dreams filled with Irene, a mutant officer onbard the ship with an amazing gift of prophecy. Between them, Logan paced the length of his room. Everyone else had stayed in Genosha. Erik had left plans to begin transitioning to a civilian settlement, although Charles doubted they’d ever disband the Armed Forces.  


_So,_ Erik sent to him, mind groggy and fuzzy. _You’d rather stare at walls than sleep with me. Lovely._  


Charles rolled his eyes even as he climbed back in bed. _Are you nervous?_ Charles asked as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.  


_Not at all,_ Erik sent back. _Us, and the Avengers? Trask doesn’t stand a chance_.  


Somewhere aboard the ship, Tony’s mind raced with thoughts of bombs and suits, and another man worried about his absent brother. Another mind hummed silently, but deadly for all of its quiet order. Yet another mind was a maelstrom of rage and fear, and another mind mourned for a lost love and a lost lifetime.  


Still deeper, a mind plotted. Charles would have recoiled from it in fear, but at the moment its attentions were turned towards Trask and Stryker, and Charles let himself rest as he focused back on Erik’s muzzy thoughts. _Better rest while we can_ , Charles mused. After all, tomorrow would be a big day.

  



End file.
